


someone to hold every night

by aletterinthenameofsanity



Series: my tiny ass fandom fest [9]
Category: A Very Potter Musical Series - Team StarKid, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, this is one of my first and still #1 OTPs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aletterinthenameofsanity/pseuds/aletterinthenameofsanity
Summary: It's not easy to survive with the scars of Azkaban.Oh, it's not just the Dementors, stealing your happiness and your every lovely thought. They also use enchanted chains there, you know. Ones that leave scars around your wrists for the rest of your life, remnants of burns from where they prevented your magic from escaping. Those scars last until the day you die, as infinite reminder of the crimes you committed.And Voldemort hates having to see those scars on Quirrell's wrists when they're sleeping together in their Muggle flat. It's been years since Quirrell got out of Azkaban and they moved to the suburbs of Muggle London. Though Quirrell's still going to therapy (and though Voldemort still really hates a lot about Muggles, he is so immeasurably thankful for the existence of therapy and how it has helped Quirrell), the nightmares haven't stopped. The panic attacks have abated a lot, but they're still there.And Voldemort knows that it's all his fault. He's the reason that Quirrell has those scars on his wrists and his mind, why he constantly suffers from flashbacks, why he often has to be held through the night to prevent nightmares.(Fluffier than it sounds.)





	someone to hold every night

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Missing You" from A Very Potter Musical, as all of you should probably know by now because it's underrated and fucking ICONIC.
> 
> Alright, I love this ship like no one's business and I have for fucking YEARS now. This isn't as good of a fic as the pairing deserves, but I love it anyway.
> 
> (Tiny fandom here refers to AVPM, not to Harry Potter, because yeah, that fandom's the literal opposite of tiny.)
> 
> Number of fics in the fandom (AVPM, specifically) so far: 88
> 
> (Which is a damn shame.)

_A scar is a healing._

_After injury, a scar is what makes you whole._

**-China Miéville**

 

It's not easy to survive with the scars of Azkaban.

Oh, it's not just the Dementors, stealing your happiness and your every lovely thought. They also use enchanted chains there, you know. Ones that leave scars around your wrists for the rest of your life, remnants of burns from where they prevented your magic from escaping. Those scars last until the day you die, as infinite reminder of the crimes you committed.

And Voldemort hates having to see those scars on Quirrell's wrists when they're sleeping together in their Muggle flat. It's been years since Quirrell got out of Azkaban and they moved to the suburbs of Muggle London. Though Quirrell's still going to therapy (and though Voldemort still really hates a lot about Muggles, he is so immeasurably thankful for the existence of therapy and how it has helped Quirrell), the nightmares haven't stopped. The panic attacks have abated a lot, but they're still there.

And Voldemort knows that it's all his fault. He's the reason that Quirrell has those scars on his wrists and his mind, why he constantly suffers from flashbacks, why he often has to be held through the night to prevent nightmares.

Voldemort's never felt guilty before. Not when he killed his family, not when he first killed Potter, not when he arranged for Dumbledore's death.

But with Quirrell? By wizard God, every regret he's ever felt was because of this beautiful, brilliant man.

He's never loved someone like he does Quirrell. Bellatrix was a fuckbuddy and he's never given a shit about his family. But Quirrell, with his flowers and books and his messy habits and his love of children- well, he's really fucking in love with Quirrell. And that's kind of terrifying.

Voldemort's never cared so much in his life, never consented to be this vulnerable before. And in some ways he hates it, the fact that someone as fragile and brilliant as Quirrell can make him feel this way. He hates that Quirrell can give him regrets, that Quirrell can give him butterflies in his stomach, that he wants to cuddle and hold Quirrell until he's smiling and laughing.

"Voldemort," comes Quirrell's voice, slurred by sleep, "You're beating yourself up again, aren't you?"

Voldemort straightens. "I would never," he says, automatically falling back into old patterns of bravado. He ruins the pretense of apathy, though, by ghosting his fingers over Quirrell's scarred wrist, over the bumpy flesh that will never go smooth again.

"Voldemort, you do know I don't blame you for what happened, right?"

Quirell's told Voldemort that a hundred times, but it's never quite sunk in. Because here's the thing- it doesn't matter whether or not Quirrell blames Voldemort for what happened, it was objectively Voldemort's fault. Voldemort let Quirrell take the fall for that Hufflepuff boy's death. He let Quirrell languish in Azkaban for months, only returning to him after Voldemort himself had died.

Yes, it was Quirrell's decision to ally himself with Voldemort, to do the things he did. But it's Voldemort's fault that Quirrell faced the consequences for what happened, that Quirrell had to go to Azkaban because Voldemort didn't protect him from the wizard cops.

"I know," Voldemort says with a sigh, "But it's just hard not to blame myself." 

Quirrell's eyes open wide awake, undulled by sleep. "Voldemort," he says, voice ungentle in the way it only is when Voldemort's being hard on himself. "Do you need to go visit Dr. Zachary again?"

Voldemort's nose wrinkles as if he's bit into a lemon. "Your muggle doctor? The one who wants me to talk about my feelings? He helps you, and I'm grateful for that, but no thanks for me!" 

"Are you sure you don't need help?" Quirrell asks, always concerned about Voldemort in the way that no one else has ever been.

Voldemort nods. "I have you, don't I?" He says, and Quirrell smiles that unburdened smile of his, the one that's fond and happy and that Voldemort calls his "lovesick" smile when teasing Quirrell (but that he secretly loves more than anything else in the world). He then leans over and kisses Voldemort. Quirrell's lips linger, gentle and warm, and Voldemort reaches up and places a hand on the back of Quirrell's neck.

All of his regrets center around Quirell, but so do all of his hopes and dreams. Every good moment he can remember centers around this gentle man in front of him, the man who loves gardening more than killing, who wants nothing more than to teach, whether that be wizardlings or the Muggles at the high school he currently works at.

Quirrell makes Voldemort  _happy_ like he's never been in the past, and by wizard God does he hope he can do the same for Quirrell.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's short, but hopefully it was sweet!


End file.
